Goodbye, Heelys
by these are jazz-hands
Summary: A one shot for Callie and Arizona Calzone, Calizona, Calzona, Arizocal...oh wow, it totally goes on! that was a challenge entry for a competition on LJ. I included 3 of the 4 requirements. Use of Heelys, explanation of scrub cap and embarrassing comment


**Title:** Goodbye, Heelys (1/1)  
**Author: **Jazz  
**Rating: **PG-13?  
**Fanbase: **Grey's Anatomy  
**Pairing:** Callie/Arizona (Calzone)  
**Word Count: **2,082  
**Teaser:** Here's my challenge entry...I'm too lazy to write a teaser. Really, this isn't too serious, and it's un-betad. But I did use spell check!

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It's a typical day at Seattle Grace. Lots of adultery, lots of crazy and unusual surgical cases, lots of on-call rooms being used for something other than resting. That's why I'm surprised when I find an empty one, on the first try. I breathe a sigh of relief and lock the door. Finally, I can get some rest. I kick off my Heelys, not bothering to untie them, and collapse onto the bed. I doze off for about five minutes and then…

_Beep beep beep_. The signal for _911_.

Fuck. Why? _Why_? Just when I get an empty on-call room. I've gotten used to the constant inconvenience of Seattle Grace's on-call rooms with their dirty sweaty sheets that nobody bothers to wash… But just because I've gotten used to them, that doesn't mean I have to like them. If it were up to me, there would be no on-call rooms, for all the rest they give anybody in this hospital anyway.

_Well, I suppose it's for the better that I've only gotten a wink's sleep. Imagine if I had gotten longer. Then I would be more reluctant to wake up_, I think to myself, trying to drag myself out of bed. Today, I'm in no mood for emergencies, or games, or running around frantically. Which sucks, since I work in a hospital. Maybe it was the lack of sleep I've had since I started this 38-hour-and-counting-shift. Maybe it's that I haven't eaten since about midnight, and now it's 2 PM. Maybe it's that it's cold outside. I don't know what it is, but I'm not in a good, peppy, Arizona mood today. Today, I am more…Alaska. Dark and cold and Sarah Palin.

I laugh to myself at Sarah Palin's expense and finally sit up and slide my Heelys back on. It's a 911 so I have no time to take the precaution of removing the wheels.

Which turns out to be a very bad idea.

I do some mixture of running, skidding, skating, and leaping down the corridors until I crash right into the hospital's sliding glass doors, which _should_ be sliding. But, no. If it has to be one or the other, sliding or glass, of course for me, the door chooses glass. Apparently I am too fast for the door's reflexes, and as technologically advanced as an automatic door is, it can only sense slower speeds (that is, slower than me) and it can only open at a slower rate than it would take for me to get from the front desk to…the sliding glass door. Which is glass, as I have said. Somehow only my feet and nothing else go through the glass. It shreds my Heelys.

Goodbye, Heelys. Thou shalt be missed. Or…misst. Missed-eth? I don't know. I think I'm bleeding but I can't see the bottom of my foot to check. Since, you know, it's covered in blood.

Oh, wait. That must mean I am bleeding.

Now, I'll have it known that I _am_ a surgeon. I can _handle_ blood. Blood, that is, that isn't my own. The sight of my own blood all over my foot and ruined skate shoes has me feeling queasy, and in my head I go over how much blood loss I think I've had, but it's no use, I can't tell, and I feel sick, and I think I'm going to pass out, and I see some people running to me, and everything is very bright and red…

The last thing I get out before I am out is, "Please…someone make sure my Heelys are okay."

I awaken with an I.V. hooked up to me, in a hospital gown.

Oh, crap. I didn't get to answer my 911. And now…something is amiss. My feet hurt. In a numb, dulled sort of way.

Someone's standing over me. My vision refocuses as I get used to the light, and I see who it is.

It's Callie Torres.

Oh, crap, crap, crap. Today is _not_ my day. I can't even stand, my hair's probably messed up, I don't have any ChapStick on, this hospital gown makes me look fat! She must sense the panic on my face because she smiles and says, "hey, hottie."

I think I stop breathing. Was that sarcasm? Was it a joke? Does she really think I'm hot? Was it all three? Aaaaaah!

"Hi," I manage with a weak smile. "Um…what happened?"

"Your Heelys happened," Callie laughs. "You were running somewhere and you crashed, and you broke your left foot. You also have some cuts on both feet, but we removed the glass and they weren't too deep. You should be fine by next week. You'll want to stay off your feet though."

I catch most of what she's saying, but mostly I'm just checking her out. She looks soooo hot in those light blue scrubs. They set a perfect contrast against her caramel skin. I'm new here, but I've heard of McDreamy and McSteamy already, and if I had to give her a McName, I'd call her…McSpicy. She's just so…hot.

"See something you like?" she asks. Her lip is curled up in a smirk.

"Actually, I do," I said with a glint in my eye. She raises her eyebrows and sits down next to me. She leans in closer to me and whispers into my ear, just close enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, "Why don't you do something about it, then?"

I bite my lip, trying to hide a grin, but my dimples are a dead giveaway. Callie sits back and grins back, shivering.

"It's cold," she says.

"Yeah, I noticed that," I reply. "Your nipples are really erect."

Oh my God. I did not just go there.

Callie stops dead in her tracks, her mouth slightly ajar.

"Oh my God," I say. I'm sure I'm a million shades of red. "I'm so sorry. That was way unnecessary. Aaah! I'm sorry!"

"Um," says Callie awkwardly, looking down at her breasts. "It's okay. I guess you're bound to see my nipples at some point anyway."

Now it was her turn to blush.

"Not that…you necessarily…wanted to…have sex with m—"

"Shh. We're both totally freaking ourselves out. Of course I want to have sex with you. You're superhot," I say. I don't know where all this confidence is coming from. But, hey, I kissed her in the bathroom. She should know that I really do feel that way about her.

Callie's face slowly spreads into a smile which lights up her whole face.

"You're the hot one. You and your dimples. And your Heelys and your…scrub cap. You're just adorable."

I grin.

"You know, technically you could get fired for flirting with your patient like this?"

"It never stopped anyone before," she replies, shrugging. She looks me up and down and licks her lips involuntarily. "I have a question, though."

"Shoot," I say.

"Okay." She pauses. "I so think your scrub cap is absolutely adorable, and unique…but why did you choose it? Why the butterflies?"

"It's kind of a long story. Is that okay?"

Callie nods.

"In all honesty," she says, "My shift ended a couple hours ago. I'm just staying extra for you." She smiles and blushes for admitting it, but I think we've both made it pretty clear we like each other.

"Okay, so you've got time." I clear my throat. "Well. So. When I was little, we lived in the middle of a prairie, in a prairie reserve in Illinois. Every spring, I think, the butterflies came out and absolutely thrived. They were everywhere. My dad…he used to beat on my mom, when he was drunk and couldn't think straight, and sometimes when he was sober and just angry. My mom always made sure I was safe away from him when it happened. But she always said to me, to distract me from their shouting and the thuds his fist made on her skin, 'Keep your eyes on the butterflies. One day we'll fly away with them.' And the butterflies gave us both hope and strength, and finally one day, they gave us enough strength together to call the police. And even though we stayed in the prairie, and didn't fly away, we did, in a way, because we were free."

"Wow," says Callie. "Here, I thought it was all perky adorableness spewing out of you." She hugs me lightly. "I'm sorry that happened to you when you were little."

"It didn't happen to me" I say. "It happened to my mom. I was just there. But, that's why my scrub cap is butterflies. Because butterflies give me hope, and they remind me of my home after Dad was gone. I like to think when I came here and essentially really 'flew away,' I took a piece of home with me in my scrub cap." I smile up at Callie. "You have now heard my life story. Now you don't only owe me a kiss from that night at Joe's, you also owe me your life story." I wink at her. Her breath catches just loud enough for me to hear, and she licks her lips again, staring at my own.

"Can I kiss you right now? You have no idea how hard I've been fighting the temptation since I first saw you," she says, her voice lower than usual, heavy with desire. If I can get her like this when she only wants to _kiss_ me, I can only imagine how she gets when she and I finally…

I'm getting ahead of myself. I stare at her lips and now _I_ lick _my_ own.

"You can kiss me anytime," I tell her. She smirks and leans forward, getting closer to me. I feel her cinnamon breath on my face. Next thing I know, our lips are together and electricity is shooting through my body, telling it to do things that would be very inappropriate to do in this place, in the almost public eye. Her hand goes to my face and she stays propped up on the other elbow. I snake my arms around her waist and pull her closer to me. Everywhere our bodies touch is on fire. I can tell she was chewing cinnamon gum earlier. I can taste it. McSpicy.

I want more of that taste. I open my mouth a little and run my tongue along her bottom lip. She whimpers quietly into my mouth and opens hers. Our tongues meet in the middle and my strawberry chapstick meets her cinnamon gum and becomes an unexpected harmony of tastes. I run my hand down her back and feel her curves. She supports herself and me by holding my head steady in her hand. I'm already falling so hard for her, and we haven't even had a first date. If we go any farther, this is going to become a first date.

I pull back when my lungs are screaming for air and we both catch our breath, with swollen lips that carry triumphant grins.

"I think we should do this again sometime," I say grinning. "But I think we both have sleep. You need to go home and get some rest…you've been here for over 48 hours. Seriously. But," I add, resting my hand on her stomach, "I think we should go out on a date." I'm nervous, thinking this could be going a little fast, but I'm not that nervous. If she was going to say no, she would have never even worked extra hours just for me.

"We _should_ go out on a date," confirms Callie. "When are you free?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?" I laugh.

"Actually…no," she replies.

"Hey, great!" I grin. "Tomorrow I'm supposed to work, but I think the Chief is going to make sure I stay out of this hospital until I've gotten some rest."

"Damn right," says Callie. "You need to rest your feet."

"Okay. Then why don't you meet me at my house at eight tomorrow? We can play Scene It…Here are my directions," I write them down on a scrap of paper and hand them to Callie. "Along with my number."

"I can't wait," says Callie sincerely.

"Me either." I can't hide my grin anymore, and neither can Callie. After a few minutes of light (and, okay, some pretty heavy) kisses, I finally coax Callie out of my bed, promising her of continuing tomorrow.

I can't wait.

And now, I know that neither can Callie.

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Note: Now it's your turn! Review!

Also note: this is a one-shot, so there is no continuation of it. :) Sorry...


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